Verses Written under the Picture of Fortune

The fickle seat whereon proud Fortune sits,
The restless globe whereon the Fury stands,
Bewrays her fond and far inconstant fits;
The fruitful horn she handleth in her hands
Bids all beware to fear her flattering smiles,
That giveth most when most she meaneth guiles.
The wheel that, turning, never taketh rest,
The top whereof fond worldlings count their bliss,
Within a minute makes a black exchange,
And then the vile and lowest better is;
Which emblem tells us the inconstant state
Of such as trust to Fortune or to Fate.